


Washington's Fears

by ProjectFreelancerTrash



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Death, Fear, M/M, Other, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProjectFreelancerTrash/pseuds/ProjectFreelancerTrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt Drabble: “its all your fault” and “don’t fucking touch me” with tuckington </p>
<p>Washington goes through the void to see his fear. He instantly regrets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Washington's Fears

“It’s all your fault.” They hissed, burning the accusations in him. 

He stepped through the void at Carolina’s warnings but he never expected this. It was almost immediate. The voices shouting, and jeering at him. Each of them crowding Washington and spitting down at him. 

He crumpled and tried to backpedal but he was surrounded. He curled in on himself as they screamed at him; telling him he was a murder. 

The Reds stepping in out of the crowd. Wash feeling relief until their appearance turned hostile as they ripped him apart like flesh on bone as they spewed his faults. 

He nearly killed Donut for his own self-interest, and without a second though. He wanted them dead and would put a gun to them in their sleep. He was nothing but a mercenary. He was nothing but a dog on a leash. A monster that craved death and destruction. 

“Just look at you, they are all dead because of you.” The voices hissed. 

A gold armor clad figure bursting into his line of site. “You are easily the worst fighter.” York snapped, turning away from Wash in disgust. 

A whimper escaped Washington’s throat as he tucked his head in his arms in attempt to drown out the voices. Still, North’s voice rung out nothing like his fatherly voice. Wash couldn’t hear but he didn’t need to. It stung just hearing his tone of voice aimed with such brutality towards him. 

Maine’s growl making him want to scream as tears burned down his cheeks. His breath turning shallow and rapid as he struggled to to focus on anything but the yelling and accusations. 

CT’s voice reprimanding him, “You became their toy, Wash. I don’t know whether to be disgusted or disappointed. You were always too loyal.” 

Then, just like that, it all subsided. Everyone’s voices gone along with their harsh touches. 

Wash didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to know, but a pair of footsteps had him glancing up. 

Everyone was now on the floor, unmoving. Wash assumed them dead. His shuddering breathes broke as he let out another whimper. His eyes following the massacre to see a moving teal figure. 

It was too short to be Carolina. It was Tucker who was looking over the wreck and devastation. He was faced away from Wash but that didn’t stop Washington from immediately reaching out to him. The one person he usually went to during his attacks that would calm him most of the time. 

Tucker saw Washington out of the corner of his eye and leaped back from Washington’s touch. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Tucker growls, before walking away. 

Washington’s jaw dropped, and his outstretched hand curled in. In a flash of light, Washington returned to the base. 

Everyone was waiting and watching for Washington’s return. They all stood up. Tucker and Carolina took a step forward. Tucker carefully asked, “So, what did you see?” 

Washington stood rigidly. He looked at Tucker and stated harshly, “Nothing.” before walking away.


End file.
